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Живей отново
Живей отново от: THE PARAGON LORE TEAM Two young noblewomen leaned against each other on a divan, their throats agape. Past their lifeless bodies, a woman and a man danced in an elegantly appointed ballroom—one smiling, the other sweating. The only sound was the scrape of the woman’s heels on the polished floor. “Countess,” the nobleman said. “The rural nobles grow restless. They ask after their daughters, and—” “Oh Vitali, if you are no longer useful, I can make other arrangements,” Countess breathed into his ear. She held the man close, her nails piercing his back and keeping his posture straight. “Surely you don’t expect me to accept common serfs?” Baron Vitali’s facade cracked. “Never, my lady. I will continue to offer you tribute—” “I thought you might.” For centuries she’d witnessed the petty, tedious, unchanging nature of humanity. None of it surprised her. She felt as if she were repeating conversations she’d had fifty years ago. A tapping on the door saved her from having to carry on this farce. “Come,” Countess called sweetly, and the door opened to reveal a terrified page. “My lady, there’s a foreigner in the square, demanding to see you! With huge armor!” “Well,” she said. “Visitors to our city are rare enough, but making demands is a bit rude, don’t you think, Baron?” She strode toward the balcony door, the page shrinking from her as she passed. “Good boy,” she murmured. “Tell everyone that there will be a fresh corpse in the square by morning.” She stepped onto the balcony and surveyed her city. Gray buildings huddled under Velikov’s perpetually cloudy sky. Sunset had passed, and her people were huddled in their homes, terrified of the darkness. A cacophony of yelling and clashing steel reached her ears. Is someone fighting? In my city? Countess crouched on a rooftop and looked down at the square, lit by the scant moonlight forcing its way through the clouds. A tall woman clad in an enormous suit of armor dominated the plaza. She held a great axe in one hand and a massive shield in the other. Three of Velikov’s guardsmen lay at her feet, bleeding and unconscious. The warrior seemed unfazed by the fight she’d just won. As Countess considered her next move, the woman looked directly up at her, pointing the axe. “You! I tried to tell your lackeys that my quarrel wasn’t with them, but they wouldn’t listen!” Countess dropped effortlessly to the cobbled square, drew her twin blades, and considered the woman. “Ah,” she murmured. “Whom did I kill? A lover? A sibling?” “My father! He was a merchant, traveling to—” “Spare me the details, child. I won’t remember any of them.” “I will have—” “—Justice. Yes, yes. I am familiar with it. Shall we?” As she finished speaking, Countess leapt forward, blades poised to take the woman’s eyes. The warrior pounded her great axe onto her own shield, sending out a shockwave that threw Countess back, slamming her into the side of a building. She slid to the ground. Dazed, she scrambled back to her feet, shaking her head. It had been a long time since she’d felt pain like that. This could be interesting. The warrior charged, axe held high. Countess reached for the darkness... and vanished. She reappeared on the warrior’s back and brought her swords arcing down, but the woman spun around, slamming the shield into her and throwing her to the ground. She landed, rolling to soften the impact. How could this armored woman move so fast? If she was not augmented by magic, she must have spent years in training. Just for me? Countess thought. I’m flattered. The woman was almost upon her again, swinging her great axe. Countess rolled aside an instant before it cut into the cobblestones, throwing sparks. She leapt to her feet — but the warrior’s shield bashed her. She felt her ribs shatter and her ankle snap as she tumbled to the ground again. Armored feet kicked and stomped her. Blows from the shield rained down upon her. She dodged most, rolling and twisting, but there were too many. In desperation, she crawled between the warrior’s legs and dragged herself to her feet. She could only limp toward the center of the square, trying to get her bearings. “I am Terra,” the warrior declared, coming after her. “I will free this land from you and lay my father’s soul to rest.” Countess tripped over an unconscious guardsman. She rolled onto her back and looked up to see the warrior, axe raised, ready to end it. But the woman paused, glaring down at her. Her eyes darted past Countess. That hesitation was all Countess needed. She reached for the darkness, further than she ever had before. Her body nearly ripped apart, existing for a moment in two places at once. Then she was gone. Countess fell onto familiar polished tiles, tumbling across the floor and bleeding from her many wounds. Near the golden window, Baron Vitali stared at her, aghast. Countess crawled toward him, and he backed away. She caught his foot and pulled herself up to him, snarling. He desperately pushed her away, but her need was too great. Her cheek pressed against his as her teeth found his neck. His life coursed into her, filling her with new energy. She could not stop. When his feeble writhing faded, she let him collapse at her feet. The life had gone from his eyes, but a gentle look remained—that of a man who had witnessed the terrifying beauty of an angel. Her wounds closed and her bones knitted themselves together. But it wasn’t enough. She was still weak. She sank onto the sofa next to the corpses of the two young noblewomen, weighing her options. Terra would surely be searching for her, and the way she’d spotted Countess atop the roof in the square suggested that she may have had some sort of charm to help her. It had been centuries since Countess was in a fight like that, and she was about to be in another. It was exhilarating. But why did Terra hesitate? she thought. She could have finished me. She mentally reconstructed the moment, trying to find the answer. Terra standing over her, axe raised high, Countess scrambling over the fallen guardsman— The guardsman. If Terra had swung that axe…. Her thoughts were interrupted by the smell of fear. There was someone else in the room. That was good news, for if she was to survive the upcoming fight, she needed a plan, and she needed more blood. The thought of facing Terra again made her heart beat faster with anticipation. She stood and followed the fear across the room, past the dining table to a large cabinet. Inside, the page cowered, eyes screwed shut. “Silly boy,” she murmured. She bent down and cradled him in her arms. Her bloodstained lips moved against his shock of brown hair. “Do not worry. You will serve your Countess tonight, and that is surely the highest calling to which your young life could aspire.” Countess leaned against the ancient stone sill of Velikov’s bell tower, studying the street below. The tower was the highest point in her city and provided the perfect vantage to watch Terra approach, glancing periodically at the charm she held. High marks for preparation, Countess thought, but it will not help. When they had last met, she’d been caught off-guard by the woman’s ferocity, but now she was back in control. Weakened and hurting, perhaps, but in control. She decided to let the woman climb the many flights to the top before revealing herself. Let the oaf be out of breath when I kill her, she thought. Down below, she could hear Terra’s axe splintering the bell tower’s door. Countess strolled to the railing, looking down to watch the massive woman stomp up the stairs. On a whim, she took a pebble from the floor and tossed it at the wall near Terra. The stone made a sharp clacking sound against the tower wall, and the warrior’s response was instant. She thrust her shield into the darkness at the source of the sound, impacting the wall. The entire tower shuddered from the blow, and Countess laughed. Terra growled and doubled her pace. In a moment, she topped the stairs and stood on the landing, glowering into the darkness. “Enough hiding,” the warrior bellowed. “I know you are here!” “Oh Terra,” Countess said, striding into the light. “I am not hiding. I’m simply savoring the moment.” “You’re afraid, Countess. In the square, you were eager for the fight, but now you hesitate.” “In the square, my dear, I was bored. Now that we’re friends, I think this should be far more entertaining.” Terra slammed her axe into her shield, and the shockwave blasted outward again, rattling the tower—but this time Countess was ready, leaping to the rafters and back down onto the warrior, slicing a gash along the woman’s face. She slipped back into the darkness an instant before the warrior jerked back into the wall. The ancient tower creaked, stones rattling. Countess crouched in the shadows, watching Terra pace the belfry, axe at the ready. She was confident, but still had to find a way to get her blades—or teeth—past Terra’s armor. It would not be easy. Good, she thought. “Haven’t you lived long enough?” Terra called out. “Let me put you out of your misery.” “To be honest, darling, if you had arrived yesterday, I might have taken you up on that,” Countess said, projecting her voice. “But you’ve given me new purpose, and for that, I am grateful.” The moment was perfect. Now. She launched herself at the warrior with such force that they both crashed into the wall, causing the tower to shake and sway. She was inside the woman’s guard, her teeth finding flesh. Terra bellowed as Countess ripped and tore, blood spraying across her face. Something struck Countess’s head and her gaze went white. In desperation, she let go, staggering. When her vision cleared, she saw Terra before her—a heavy visor covering her face. It had slammed down to save the warrior’s life. Reeling from the blow to her head, she again thought death was seconds away. But the warrior staggered as well, blood dripping through the seams in her armor. Countess had injured her so deeply that they were now each at the other’s mercy. Stones and rafters fell around them and the great bell began to ring. Perhaps we’ll die together, Countess thought. How droll. Terra shook off her dizziness and lurched toward her, axe dragging behind her. Countess decided it was time to end this contest. She used the last of her energy to reach into the darkness, retrieving a very special bargaining chip. A rift opened above her and the young page tumbled into her arms—unconscious but alive. Terra hesitated, swaying. “Oh yes,” Countess said. “You’ve won, Terra, because I must resort to the basest tactic I have: bargaining.” “Even for you—” she choked out. “Come now, you spared me once to save the life of a guardsman. Would you do any less for an innocent boy?” “And leave him in your tender care?” Terra shook her head. “He’ll die either way.” Countess leaned against the windowsill to hide the trembling in her legs, gazing down at Terra. “Which brings us to the bargain. If you depart Velikov immediately and never return, I shall spare this boy, and all the children of my city. This I swear. So I ask you—how many lives is your father worth?” Terra’s visor slid back to reveal stricken eyes. Countess leaned down, letting her teeth graze the boy’s throat. “Think quickly, Terra dear. I’m getting hungry.” Terra lowered her axe and stepped back, looking up at the swinging bell that was beginning to unhinge itself from its cradle. With gritted teeth, she looked back down at her foe. “If you ever leave this city,” she growled “I will find you. I will—” “I know, Terra. I would expect no less. Now run along, before that bell squashes us both.” Terra turned and stomped to the nearly ruined stairs. Falling rubble bounced off her armor as she descended, disappearing from view. “See you soon!” Countess called. When she was sure the woman was gone, she slumped in pain, letting her weakness show. She looked out the window, found the nearest rooftop, and used the darkness to bring herself and the boy there just as the floor gave way beneath them. The page lay in a bed of straw, pale and sickly, but breathing steadily. Countess tousled his brown hair affectionately. “You were useful to me tonight, boy,” she said. “In return, I shall grant you and three generations of your family immunity from my attentions.” She stood, stepping over the body of the unfortunate seamstress whose house she’d escaped to, and vaulted out the window, back up onto the roof. She looked out over her city. Velikov’s skyline appeared different without the bell tower—but change was good. It had been hers for so long, and that was why she’d grown bored. Her gaze moved past the city to the horizon and the lands beyond. Yes, change can be good. Countess smiled. There were reasons to feel alive again.